


The Lake House

by 69_wonderland



Category: Ereri - Fandom, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, M/M, Shingeki no Kyojin: Kuinaki Sentaku | Attack on Titan: No Regrets, YOAI, aot - Freeform, attack on titan - Freeform, snk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:40:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3827626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/69_wonderland/pseuds/69_wonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lake House tells the story of seven extraordinary children, endowed with the power to fly after genetic engineering merged their DNA with that of birds, and who have tofight for their lives against scientists who want to clone them, producing a race of human-bird creatures. With them comes the help of Dr Hanji Zoe and suspended FBI agent Erwin Smith.</p><p>DISCLAIMER:</p><p>I don't own this story, this story originally belongs to James Patterson.<br/>I don't own the characters, they belong to the original owner of Attack on Titan.<br/>I do not own any of the photos used for this story, they belong to the original artists. (if your photo is one that I have used and you would like for me to take itdown, just meesage me and will remove it immediately)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue~RESURRECTION

At about eleven in the evening, Dr. Grisha Yeager trudged down the gray-and-blue-painted corridor toward a private elevator. His mind was filled with images of death and suffering, but also progress, great progress that would change the world.

     A young and quite homely scrub nurse rounded the corner of the passageway and nodded her head deferentially as she approached him. She had a crush on Dr. Grisha, and she wasn't the only one.

      "Doctor," she said, "you're still working."

       "Hannah, you go home, now. Please," Grisha Yeager said, pretending to be solicitous and caring, which couldn't have been further from the truth. He considered the nurse inferior in every way, including the fact that she was female.

          He was also exhausted from a surgical marathon: five major operations in a day. The elavator car finally arrived, the doors slid open, and he stepped inside.

        "Good night, Hannah," he said, and showed the nurse a lot of very white teeth, but no genuine warmth, because there was none to show. He straightened his tall body and wearily passed his hand over his long brown hair, cleaned his wire-rimmed glasses on the tail of his lab coat, then rubbed his eyes before putting his glasses back on as he descended to the subbasement level.

        One more thing to check on . . . always one more thing to do.  
       He walked half a dozen quick steps to a thick steel dorr and pushed it open with the palm of his hand. 

       He entered the dark and chilly atmosphere of a basement storage room. A pungent odor struck him.

       There, lying on a double row of gurneys, were six naked bodies. Four men, two women, all in their late teens and early twenties. Each was brain-dead, each as good as gone, but each had a served worthy cause, a higher purpose. The plastic bracelets on their writs said DONOR.

       "You're making the world a better place," Grisha whispered as he passed the bodies. "Take comfort in that."

       Dr. Grisha strode to the far end of the room and pushed open another steel door, an exact duplicate of the first. This time rather than a chilly blast, he was met by a searing wave of hot air, the deafening roar of fire, and the unmistakable smell of death.

       All three incinerators were going tonight. Two of his nighttime porters, their powerful workingman bodies glistening with grime and sweat, looked up as Dr. Grisha entered the cinder-block chamber. The men nodded respectfully, but their eyes showed fear.

       "Let's pick up the pace, gentlemen. This is taking too long," Grisha called out. "Let's go, let's go! You're being paid well for this scut work. Too well."

       He glanced at a naked young woman's corpse laid out on the cement floor. She was white-blond, pretty in a music-video sort of way. The porters had probably been diddling with her. That's why they were behind schedule, wasn't it?

       Gurneys were shoved haphazardly into one corner, like discarded shopping carts in a supermarket parking lot. Quite a spectacle. Hellish, to be sure.

       As he watched, one of the sweat-glazed minions worked a wooden paddle under a young male's body while the other swung open the heavy glass door of an oven. Together they pushed, shoved, slid the body into the fire as if it were a pizza.

       The flames dampened for a moment, then as the porters locked down the door, the inferno flared again. The cremation chamber was called a "retort." Each retort burned 3,600 degrees, and it took just over fifteen minutes to reduce a human body to nothing but ashes. To Dr. Grisha Yeager, that meant one thing: no evidence of what was happening at the Hospital. Absolutely no evidence of Resurrection. 

       "Pick up the pace!" he yelled again. "Burn these bodies!"

The donors.


	2. Part 1~CHILD CUSTODY

IT WAS BEING CALLED "the mother of all custody trials," which might have explained why an extra fifty thousand people had poured into town on that warm day in early spring.

       The case was being billed as potentially more wrenching and explosive than the Rod Reiss, King Fritz, or Pastor Nick cases against truth and decency. I happened to think that this time maybe the media hype was fitting and appropriate, even a tiny bit underplayed.

       The fate of seven extraordinary children was at stake.

       Seven children who had been created in a laboratory and made history, both scientific and philosophical.

       Six adorable, good-hearted kids whom I loved as if they were my own.

       Levi, Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Sasha, and Connie.

       The actual trial was scheduled to begin in an hour in the City and County Building, a gleaming white neoclassical courthouse. Designed to appear unmistakably judicial-looking, it was crowned with a pointy pediment just like the one atop the Supreme Court Building. I could see it now.

       Erwin and I slumped down on the front seat of my dusty, trusty beat-up blue Suburban. It was parked down the block from the court house, where we could see and not be seen, at least so far.

       I had chewed my nails down to the quick, and there was a pesky muscle twitching in Erwins cheek.

       "I know, Hangi," he'd said just a moment before. "I'm twitching again."

       We were suing for custody of the children, and we knew the full weight of the law was against us. We weren't married, we weren't related to the kids, and their biological parents were basically good people. Not too terrific for us.

       What we did have going for us was our unshakable love for these children, with whom we'd gone through several degrees of hell, and their love for us.

       Now all we had to do was prove that living with us was in the best interst of the children, and that meant I was going to have to tell a story that sounded crazy, even to my closest friends, sometimes even to myself. Which was weird since everyone called me a crazy scientist.

       But every word is true, so help me Maria.


	3. 2

THE AMAZING STORY actually started six months ago in a tiny burg of the inner city, which is fifty or so miles northwest of the Peak Highway. 

       I was driving home late one night when I happened to see a streaking white flash - then realized it was a young boy running fast through the woods not too far from my home.

       But that was just part of what I  saw. I'm a veterinarian, Dr. Hanji Zoë, and my brain didn't want to accept what my eyes told me, so I stopped my car and got out.

       The strange boy looked to be seventeen or eighteen, with short black hair and a loose-fitting smock that was stained with blodd and ripped. I remember gasping for breath and literally steadying myself against a tree. I had the clear and distinct thought that I couldn't be seeing what I was seeing.

       But my eyes didn't lie. Along with a pair of foreshortened arms, the boy had wings!  
       That's correct - wings! About a nine-foot span. Below the wings, and attached somehow, were his arms. He was double - limbed. And the fit of his wings  was absolutely perfect. Extraordinary from a scientific and aesthetic point of view. A mind-altering dose of reality.

       He had also been hurt, which was how I eventually came to capture him, in a "mist net," and sedate him, with the help of an FBI agent named Erwin Smith, whom I knew from childhood. We brpught him to the animal hospital I operated, the Inn-Patient, where I examined him. I found very large pectoral muscles achored to an oversized breastbone, enterior and posterior air sacs, a hearts as large as a horse's. 

       He had been "engineered" that way. A perfect design, actually.

       Totally brilliant.

       His name was Levi, and it was incredibly hard to wi  his teust at first. But in his own good time he told me things that made me sick to my stomach and angrier than I'd ever been. Levi said I looked like a scary sack of shit when I was angry. He told me about a place called the Basement, where he'd been kept captive since the day he was born.

       Everythimg you're about to hear is already happening,  by the way. It's going on in outlaw labs across the land and in other areas as well. In our lifetime! If it's hard to take, all I can say is, buckle up the seat belt on your easy chair. This is what happened to Levi and a few others like him.

       Biologists, trying to break the barrier on human longevity, jad melded bird DNA with human zygotes. It can be done. They had created Levi and several other children. A flock. Unfortunately,  the scientists couldn't grow the babiesin test tubes, so the genetically modified embryos had to be implanted in their mother's wombs.

       When the mothers were close to term, labor was induced. The poor mothers were thentold that their premature children had died. The preemies were shipped to an underground lab called the Basement. The Basement was, by any definition, a miximum-security prison. The children were kept in cages, and the rejects were "put to sleep," a horribly euphemism for cold-blooded murder.

       Like I said, buckle up those seat belts!

       Anyway, that was why Levi had done what he'd been forbidden to do. He had escaped from the Basement. Amazingly, we succeeded. Weeven got to live with the kidsfor a few months at a magical place we all called the Lake House.

       Erwin and I listened to what Levi had to tell us, then we went with him to tryto rescue the children still trapped in the Basement.

       When the smoke cleared (literally), the seven surviving children, including Levi and his sister, weresent to live with their biological parents - people they'd never knowna day in their lives.

        That should have been fine, I guess,but this real-life fairy tale didn't have a happy ending.

       The kids, who ranged from eighteen years old to fifteen, phoned Erwin and me constantly, every single day. They told us they were horribly depressed, bored, scared, miserable, suicidal - and I knew why. As a vet, I understood what no onw else seemed to.

       The children had done a bird thing: they had imprinted on Erwin and me.

       We were the only parents they knew and could love.


	4. 3

OUTSIDE MY BATTLE-SCARRED Suburban, the crowd was flowing like lava down Bannock Street. I read somewhere that this place has the fittest population of any major city in the land. I'd always loved it here - until now. I  was about to force a joke when Erwin said, "Brace yourself, Hangi. The kids are here."

       He pointed to a black Town Car slowly parting the crowd and finally coming to a stop in a no-parking zone right outside the court-house. The hair on my neck stood even before the crowd started chanting his name. My heart was in my throat.

       "Levi! Levi! Levi! We want Levi!" somebody screamed.

        "The freak show has arrived! " Another person yelled.

        Car doors flew open and somber-looking grey-suited bodyguards and lawyers scrambled out on to thesidewalk. Thena second car braked behind the first.

       A bullnecked manin a tight-fitting black jacket opened the passenger-side doorfor a petite, blond women way younger than me. She opened the rea door of the sedan, then reached into the backseat. Levi emerged from the Town Car. There was a sudden hush over the crowd. Even I caught my breath. I could imagin that Tch sound coming from his mouth. He was stunning in every way. And amazing boy with extraordinary intelligence and strength - and wings that spanned close to ten feet now. They were feathered in pure white, with glints of blue and silvershi ingthrough.

       "Maria, he's beautiful, " I whipered. "I miss him, Erwin. I miss all ofthe babies. This just breaks my heart."

       I remember how stunned I had been when I saw him for the firat time, and the crowd was havi g the same reaction now.

       "Levi! Levi! Levi!" People started to chant.

       Cameras flashed. "Here, Levi, look over here!" "Levi, here!" "Levi, smile!" "Levi, fly for us!"

       Four people burst through the police line, holding a banner aloft that read ONLY MARIA CAN MAKE A TREE. THAT GOES FOR CHILDREN TOO.  
       Other signs read CELL NO! and SAY NO TO CLONING!  
       Another banner had birds stenciled on it and read BAKE THEM IN A PIE. 

       Then the news choppers came in, and it got really loud and unruly. Levi swung his head around to take in the astonishing scene.

       My heart jumped.

       We grabbed up our papers for court, and as Erwin locked the car doors, he said softly, "He's looking for us, Hangi."

       "He's scared. I can see it in his eyes."

       Levi has the ultrakeen senses of a raptor. He can hear a caterpillar wriggle from a hindred yards away. He can see the caterpillar fram half a mile overhead.

       He called out now, his voice trying to hide the shill pitch of fear. So much like Levi. Hiding his emotions. "Hanji. Erwin. I need you. Please. Where are you shitty for-eyes?"

       His piercing cry was still hanging in the air as more cars pulled up to the courthouse

       Burly men with buzz cuts leaped out onto the street. Several cars began discharging the other kids. They were so hesitant, so young and vulnerable. They shied away from the cameras, hid their darling little faces.

       "Spawn of the devil!" someone screeched. "These children are demons!"


	5. 4

COURTROOM 19 was on the sixth floor. It was the largest room in the complex by far and would have to be, to hold so many inquiring minds. As Erwin and I approached with our attorney, we were besieged by a throng of reporters. "Put your head down," our lawyer advised, "and just keep walking."

       "Agent Smith, look over here. Dr. Zoë. Hey, Hanji! What makes you think you're a competent mother?" One of the press vultures shouted.

       "What makes either of you think you can be good parents to these children?"

       Erwin finally looked up at the reporter. "Because we love the little creeps," he said, and winked. "And because they love us. Life's simple like that."

       A couple of armed guards swung open the set of double doors to the courtroom, and we disappeared inside. If the brouhana on the street had sounded like a hurricane in motion, the inside had the intensity of swarming bees. The room was paneled in golden oak, and the gallery at the rear was furnished with matching benches that held over two hundred spectators.

       Every available space was filled with family members, scientists, and members of the press with real clout and, hopefully, better manners than those of the terrible horde outside.

       Our lawyer and those representing the biological parents had gathered in small groups around the bar. The lawyers' tables were situated in the middle of the room. Up front was the judge's bench, and it was vacant.

       Our lawyer, Moblit Berner, had told us that this towns courts almost always rule in the "best interest of the child." I was holding on to that statement as tightly as I clasped Erwins hand when the door from the judges chambers opened. 

       What I saw next kind of took my breath away. I suspected that it did the same thing to everybody else in Courtroom 19.

       Eyes front, wings folded, the seven children filed into the room wearing their tailored suits and starched little smocks. They were eye-poppers, for sure. Dazzlers.

       First came the sixteen year olds, Sasha and Connie. They were inseparable. Their wings the same colour as each other. Snowy white wing feathers glinting with dark blue tips.

       Levi's little sister, Mikasa, an unruly hothead of seventeen, came next.

       She was followed by the three handsome boys in the group, Armin, Jean, and Eren.

       And bringing up the rear was the loved firstborn himself.

       Levi.

       The crowd, as they say on the sports pages, went wild.


	6. 5

A COUPLE OF PACES behind the seven children strode Judge Darius Zachly, a large, fit man of seventy-three. He had a face like a crumpled paper bag, wispy white and brown hair, and a no-nonsense set to his jaw.

       There was aloud whoosing sound as everyone in the courtroom sat down.

       While the baliff called the court to prder and then read from the docket, I was keenly aware of the people across the aisle from us. They were the biological parents, and they haad assembled a formidable legal team of attorneys headed by Rico Brzenska, a former prosecutor known for her aggressive parry-and-thrust style and impressive winning record. I suppose it didn't hirt their case that she was married and pregnant with her fourth child.

       "Your Honor, " said Moblit Berner, our lawyer, "I  am quite certain this case will stretch the heartstrings of all concerned. There are no bad people here.

       "The real conflict is about what is in the best interest of the children. We will prove that their best interests cleary lie with Dr. Hanji and Mr. Smith.

       "I'd like to quote Dot Pixis, judge of the Circuit Court. In 1986 he said of a test-tube baby case, 'We really have no definition of mother in our law books. Mother was believed to have been so basoc that no definition was deemed necessary.' Your Honor, all that has changed. Today, in pur complex and sometimes confusing world, a child can have as many as three mothers. Tje one who conceived the child, the one who bore the child, and the one who raised him.

       "Agent Smith and Dr. Hangi have been surrogate parents under extreme fire. They actually put their lies on the line for these children. I'll repeat that - they put their lives at risk.

       "They never thought of anything but the children's safety. Dr. Hanji lost her animal hospital and her home in the process. To take blows and bullets for others shows love as fierce as any natural maternity or paternity. 

       "That said, this case isn't about my clients or about the respondents. It's about the children and the law that mandates children be united with their families. There is a new kind of family here, a family that came together through terrible adversity. And this powerful, loving family, for the good of the children, must be kept together. To separate Erwin, Hanji, Levi, Armin, Eren, Mikasa, Jean, Sasha, and Connie would be an injustice to everyone involved. It would be exceedingly cruel."

       I wanted to hig Moblit Berner, and he did look mildly pleased with himself as he sat down. "It's a start," he whispered. 

       But Rico Brzenska was alreadyon her feet.


	7. 6

"I'M HERE TODAY to represent the rights of seven children - Levi, Mikasa, Erwn, Armin, Jean, Sasha and Connie," said attorney Brzenska, "as well as their true parents."  
       "Why am I always the last one?" Connie suddenly spoke up from his seat in the second row. Everybody in the room laughed at the unexpected interruption from the young boy.  
       "No offense meant," Rico Brzenska said, bit she had turned the brightest red. Her face seemed to float like a balloon above the tailord navy blue field of her maternity dress. "Okay then -Connie, et al., I'm here to represent all of you," she said, and smiled benevolently.  
       "I sincerely doubt it," Armin, who had been blind since borth, piped up. "You don't know us. As blind as I am, even I can see that."  
       Once again, the room was moved by laughter and small talk, quieting only afyer Judge Zachly's repeated gavel banging and threatsto clear the room. The kods finally settled down somewhat. They were all quick with a quip, though, proba probably because each of the seven had a genius IQ. They tested off the charts.  
       In her opening remarks, Brzenska went on to laud Erwin and me for what she called our "heroic rescue" as a way of acknowledging our help in the past and putting it completely to rest. Then she began to make her critical points against us. Each was like a knife driven into my heart and Erwin's and, I was quite certain, the children's.          
       "Your Honor, Dr. Hangi and Mr. Smith, for all their altruism on the part of these children, have no legitimate claim in this courtroom, " she pronounced. "None.  
       "They are unmarried. They've known each other and the children for only a matter of months. Furthermore, and this hardly can be said strongly enough, the children's parents have done jothing whatsoever to forfeit their parental rights. On the contrary, we will show cause to irrevocably declare them the lawful, legitimate,  and exclusive parents of their children once and for all."  
       When Brzenska had finished her opening remarks, Moblit Berner stood up immediately and called Erwin. I watched with pride, and love, as he took the stand.  
       Moblit cited Erwin's lar degree and his twelve years as an FBI agent. And he gently elicited the personal tragedy that was like a dark hole at the center of Erwin's life. Four years ago, while he was working on a case, his wife and two small boys had left for a vacation with Erwin. Their small airplane went down, and there were no survivors.   
       Erwin testified calmly yet passionately, and with a spark of humor and the wit that defines his personality. I thought anyone seeing him for the first time would be entirely convinced that not just was he a brave man but he had been, and would be again, an unimpeachably good father.  
       Then, two unrelenting hours, Rico Brzenska expertly filleted Erwin 's career - and just about every moment of his private life.


	8. 7

"Mr. Smith, you've been with the FBI for twelve years?"  
"That's right."  
"Have you ever heard of Kenny Ackerman?"  
Erwin snorted and shook is head. He knew where this was going already. "That's very cute."  
"Please instruct the witness to answer, Your Honor," said Brzenska.  
"Mr. Smith, please respond to the question."  
"Kenny Ackerman is a fictitious character on a television series, " said Erwin.  
"Do you have an opinion of this fictitious character?"  
"Yeah. He's a frickin' nutjob."  
The spectators laughed. So did I. And the children twitted with delight. They adored Erwin.  
"Have you any idea, Mr. Smith, why your colleagues at the FBI call you 'Kenny'?" asked Brzenska.   
"Objection, Your Honor. Argumentative. Move to strike," shouted Moblit Berner.  
Brzenska bowed her head as if to show she was contrite. She wasn't, of course.  
"I retract the question. Mr. Smith, do you consider yourself a workaholic? "  
"Maybe. At times. I'm definitely committed to my work. I even like it sometimes."  
"And would you describe yourself as a stable person?"  
"Yes, I certainly would."  
"But you've been medicated for depression. "  
Brzenska turned her back on Erwin when she said this. It was good to see that even she could feel some shame.  
"Yes. I was depressed, damned depressed when I lost my entire family," Erwin said, his voice rising sharply.   
Rico Brzenska turned round to face him. She held her stomach in profile to Judge Zachly.  
"I see. So you understand, then, how the respondents must feel about losing their children."  
Erwin didn't speak. Across from me, Connie and Sasha sent up frightened, high-pitched screeches in protest of this attack on Erwin.  
"Agent Smith, shall I repeat the question? "  
"You heartless-," he said in a whisper.   
"Permission to treat the witness as hostile, Your Honor," said Brzenska.   
"Mr. Smith, please answer the question," said the judge.   
"Yes. Yes, I understand how it feels to lose a child," Erwin finally answered.   
"And still you persist in this action? You say that I'm heartless? That will be all, Agent Smith."


	9. 8

I WAS FEELING SICK in the pit of my stomach when Moblit Berner rose and spoke in a clear, confident voice.  
"I call Dr. Hango Zoë."  
I immediately wondered why Moblit seemed so confident. Did he know something that I didn't? Why did he have more confidence in me that I had in myself?  
As I stepped up to the witness stand, I think I had some idea of how it felt to be a four-hundred-pound lady in a wading pool. I looked out at the gallery, and the gallery looked back at me. A little more than two hundred people staring right at me, waiting for me to convince them that I wouldn't be a great - no, a flawless - mother for seven unusual and very special children.  
Well, that was what I planned to do.  
Because I knew in my heart that I would be. Wasn't that worth something?  
Moblit gave me a reassuring smile, thwn, under his direction, I cited my academic and professional credentials: my Science Scholarship, my DVM from Veterinary Teaching Hospital, and all the rest of my laurels.  
This promted a little cheer and a round of whistles from the seven kids, right under the noses of their seething parents. Even Connie and Sasha were laughing. I chanced a quick look over at Erwin, and he gave me a wink and one of his famous crooked smiles.  
As the interview went on for well over an hour, I began to feel a little more confident. I knew I would be a great mom. I loved these kids more than anyone else could. Because I was a veterinarian, I understood how complex they were. Moblit asked me to speak about my own recent tragedy - my hisband had been murdered in a holdup two years before. And I talked about my successful one-women animal practice on a squiggle of dirt road in the middle of nowhere, a one-traffic-light town about fifty miles northwest of here.  
Moblit then went on to depict me as a woman with a heart as big as my head, with an open door to every chipmunk and mule deer and pou d puppy in the area. Okay, so I started to blush.  
But most important, he told about my having operated on Levi when he was near death. How I had saved his life when no one else could have. Thatwasa fact no oe could dispute, not even Mr. Brzenska.  
Or so I hoped.  
So I prayed.  
A few moments later Rico Brzenska came over to the sta d and smiled as sweetly as if she were my own dear sister. Bit she didn't waste much more of the court's time in niceties.   
"Dr. Hangi, what is your unnual salary?" she asked in her trademark hufdy tone.  
"I can't really say. It differs from year to year. Depends on weather I'm working on more chipmunks or horses in that particular year."  
"On average, more or less than thirty-five thousand a year."  
"Less," I said, more emphatically than I'd meant to.  
"And you expect to support seven children-"  
"I wouldn't be doing it alone! These kids need love more than money. They're depressed now."  
Rico Brzenska's eyebrows ar hed. "You say the children are depressed. How do you know that? You aren't a psychologist, are you?"  
"No, but-"  
Brzenska cut me off. "You aren't any kind of a people doctor, are you Dr. Hangi?"  
No. But, these xhildren are-," I started to say, but she rudely cut me off again. I was tempted to speak right over her next question, but I stopped myself. My mistake.  
"You've never been a mother, have you, Dr. Hangi? Please answer yes or no."  
"No, but . . . No."  
I wanted to punch Brzenska, I really did. She deserved it, too.   
"You've been cohabiting with a man who is not your husband, is that correct?"  
"I wouldn't say we're cohabiting. "  
I definitely wanted to strangle her to death, then punch her lights out for good measure.  
"Correction. okay. Have it your way, then. You're having sex with a man not your husband?"  
Moblit Berner objected to the question, and his objection was sustained.   
"Is this your idea of how to be a role model to u derage children?" Brzenska stayed on the attack.  
Moblir was up in a flash. "Objection, Your Honor. Calls for conclusion on the part of the witness. "  
"Sustained."  
"Dr. Hangi, if you were to have custody of the seven young chi.dren, how would you manage to both work and care for them? Ha e you thougnt about that? Wou  
D you drive them to their schools? Or would you just open the door and let them fly?"  
"Objection, Your Honor. Counsel is badgering the witness," said my lawyer.  
But Rico Brzenska gave him a curt, snide wave of dismissal. "I have no further questions for this witness."  
She proudly waddled back to her seat.


	10. 9

JUDGE DARIUS ZACHLY GAVE US a most special gift that night, and I hoped it didn't come out of some combination of pity and guilt. He made a decision that the kids could spend part of the night with Erwin and me. He kind of threw us a bone.

       What a great treat? Unforgettable. 

       The kids were brought to our hotel. The first order of business was deciding on a place for dinner. Everyone was superstarved. The choices were room service, the Ship Tavern right there in the hotel, or the Little Italy in the mall. Little Italy won in a landslide, seven to two. Supposedly they had great veggie pizza, the kid's all-time favorite food on the planet. Say no more.  
       We arrived at the Italian restaurant about 8:30, and the usual rules were in effect: no starring contests with other people; no food fights, especially under the circumstances; absolutely no flying inside Little Italy; no snide jokes about Unkle Sonny or Little Bean, who were pictured all over the walls.  
       The kids were a dream to be with that night. Part of it was because they were on their best behavior, but part was because they were so smart and were growing up so fast. Levi was eighteen, but in human years was probably twice that. He was even starting to look like a young man in his mid-twenties. And then there was Eren, who was more handsome then Lorde Bart on a good hair day.  
       This was the first time they had all been together to talk and "vent" about their new parents.   
       Eren started saying how his mom, Kalura, was a "really good, really sweet person," but she just didn't get the bird part of him and kept suggesting that he would "grow out of it." He also revealed to us that his mother had engaged an agent and an entertainment lawyer because "we don't want to be taken advantage of by Hollywood types, do we?"  
       "I like her, you know," he said, "but she really isn't equipped to handle me. The press are always sniffing around the house, and she thinks it's okay. She likes the attention, I think. Not in a mean way. She's just human."  
       All the kids had horror stories about the press constantly being at their houses, at school, just about anywhere they went. Sasha and Connies parents had sold interviews with Sasha and Connie; Levi's caretaker would have but Levi forbade it. He had also smashed up a camera during a particularly obnoxious interview.   
       "If goddamn ET shows up here tonight," she warned, "I'm going to take away their cameras, and film them."  
       While we were waiting for various desserts to be served - gelato, sorbetto, chocolate zuccotto cake - Levi took the floor. God, he was magnificent: looks, bearing, everything about him said "hero." Follow me. I am the special one you've been waiting for.  
      Imagine heightened mother-of-pearl and you would come pretty close to getting the colour of his wings right. They had an iridescent sheen, flushed pink where the shafts emerged from his nearly translucent skin. They reminded me of the wings of ospreys or swans, or freedom. But, of course, spanning ten feet, they were much larger. The wings grew from behind his shoulders, but Levis arms seemed elegant and natural. Clearly, he represented the best of both species.   
       "Unaccustomed to public speaking, as I am," he said, and we all laughed. Actually, Levi had been on just about every TV news and talk show over the past few months. And, of course, he made very good.  
       "Win, lose, or draw," he continued, "I just want Hangi and Shitwin to know how much we appreciate everything they've done for us, and I mean everything, from saving our pitiful butts to getting shot at, having Hangi's wonderful house burned to the ground, and then coming here and offering to take all of us into their new home. My Sheena, they're even willing to take in blind Armin over here!"  
       "Sure, pick on the blind kid," yelled Armin as he laughed loudly. He actually loved it that Levi always took special care of him.  
       "Hangi said in court today that we belong together, that we should never be separated,  and I swear, that's the way it will be. It's the right thing to do, the only thing. Anyone with even have a shit brain has to see that. So we may be in trouble," he said, and winked, "because our fate is now in the hands of this country's judicial system."  
       Then Levi came around the table and gave erwin a hand shake and patted me on the back, rather hard. Levi was never one for physical contact. That's how we preferred him anyway. More things that make Levi, Levi.


End file.
